Foolish

Look who’s back. Back again. I’m not the real Slim Shady, I also don’t play one on TV and I’ll have that song stuck in my head now for at least three days. I’m mostly writing this so my Uncle Frank can rest easily tonight. I’m nice like that, and I have my goal/mission to complete.

With Ehlers-Danlos comes lots of pain. In lots of places. I don’t mean to say Saskatoon. Okay maybe Saskatoon. Places as in the topography of my body. It hurts. All. The. Time. The struggle with the constant stream of pain is deciphering new pain being layered on top of old. Decoding my normal abnormal from possible and new and dangerous abnormal abnormal. Second judgements and talking out of concerns or into some. Should I care about this new pain as much as the last time? Should I bother with the doctor or another ER visit? Nah. It will be nothing (nothing meaning EDS and there isn’t much else to do but slap a pain pill on it.) So, I hem. Then I haw. Then I hurt and hurt until I finally give in (that’s how I look at it anyway) and I go to the doc. I decide I’d rather look foolish than dead.